


On the Beat

by Jayto



Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Humor, M/M, Smut, Teen Titans Cartoon Canon, nightwing/deathstroke - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22107049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayto/pseuds/Jayto
Summary: Dick has spent four years cleaning up Bludhaven. He's made it his home now and while crime never sleeps, he feels content in the work he is doing in this city is making a difference. But the unexpected arrival of a person of his past turns everything upside down and when old feelings get in the way, it leads to a rather heated encounter.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 49
Kudos: 224





	1. On The Beat

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea that wouldn’t leave my head. It is not beta'd or anything and I wrote it in like two days. So, I am sorry for any errors you might come across. This one-shot follows the canon verse of Teen Titans the cartoon.

“Hey _Dick_! Me and some of the guys were planning on hitting up a pub tonight, you in? Karl says they got some Friday night karaoke thing going on and a couple of the guys are gonna get hammered and go on stage, should be fuckin' hilarious. Billy's gonna record it!”

Dick turns from his locker at the Police Precinct, chuckling when he saw a few of his fellow officers grinning at him from the open doorway leading out into the hallway. He quickly shuts the small locker door, having already changed into his civi clothes, a black pair of jeans and a blue long sleeve shirt, and shuffled his black duffel bag over his shoulder.

“I can't tonight guys, somethings come up,” Dick replies, shooting them a guilty look. “But make sure you record it, I'm always up for people making asses of themselves,” he grins.

“Pfft, I knew the kid wouldn't take the bait, always got somewhere to be, always got something to do la la _la_ ,” another, Billy, hassles him, shaking his head. “Our Dear _Dicky Boy_ ain't got the time for fun while trying to show us up twenty-four hours a day. Can't let up on crime fighting for even one night kid?”

The three other men standing with Billy all laugh, good-natured. Dick has started gaining something of a reputation around the Precinct, and even though the other men in blue liked to tease and act all annoyed by Dick's ridiculous amount of solved cases and explanatory work ethic, they weren't actually bothered that much by their younger co-worker's success. They weren't crooked cops and Dick's ability to keep the peace in Bludhaven allowed everyone to sleep easier at night.

“Well if the shoe fits and all that.” Dick smirks at the men and heads towards the door, shrugging. His short black locks shuffling over his forehead at the movement.

Billy gave a belly laugh and slaps Dick on the back, grinning at him, “whatever kid, see ya in a week, Mr vacation man. You better be bailing on us for some hot date!” The four men turn to head out of the Department, to get started on their night. Boisterous voices and loud posturing of who could beat who in a drinking game carried throughout the building until they were gone.

Dick smiles and shakes his head, “yeah, something like that.”

* * *

In actuality, he kind of did have a date. If eating in front of his television, working on some cases and then getting some much needed sleep, was a stand in for socializing with a person. In Dick's mind it was, but he was sure his fellow officers would disagree.

He takes his time on his walk home, planning to stop at the grocery store to get some ingredients for a healthy stir fry and a bottle of expensive wine, probably the biggest bottle he could find. He was looking forward to a low-key evening at his little hole-in-the-wall apartment that was a twenty minute walk away. Even more so, looking forward to having an entire week off from his job.

He had been working at the Bludhaven Police Department for roughly four years now. After his stint with the Titans years ago, he had left the team in order to find himself at the ripe ago of twenty, half a decade after the team had been formed. He had always known that being a part of superhero team was only temporary, and while he loved each and every one of his friends and Titans Tower was still booming with new recruits under Starfire's guidance back in Jump City, he had wanted to break free. Realizing in his ever increasing age, twenty-eight now, that he was more like his mentor Bruce than he thought. He preferred to work as a lone wolf and had wanted to step away from his teenage kicks, as it were.

He had gone back to Bruce at twenty, enrolling in a police program, and after three years of schooling and staying away from superhero crime fighting, he'd finally decided to settle down by himself in Bludhaven and join the city Police Force to someday make Detective.

He had done a thorough background check on most of the officers and the Police Chief before he had decided on applying for a position. Most of the cops were fairly well intended, not crooked, and most had a drive and desire to clean up their city. It hadn't taken him long to form good relationships with the people that worked there and could without a doubt say that even though not as close a team as the Titans or even Batman, Bludhaven Police Department worked as a close knit unit and had each others backs.

While Bludhaven has a large crime rate and even some radical groups causing mayhem with terrorism, drugs and murder, it would never be Gotham. So there were actual periods of time where things were on the down low, almost stress free, especially since Dick and his co-workers had been working steadily for a few years now trying and succeeding to drive out some of the worst of the worst.

This was home now. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere.

* * *

Thirty minutes later and Dick was finally sliding his key into his little abode around 9pm, a grocery bag tucked into the crook of his arm, duffel bag sliding precariously off his lithe shoulder. Once inside the small, pitch black apartment did he breath a little sigh of relief at finally being finished the work day.

The apartment itself wasn't too bad, a short hallway from the front door made way to a decently modern kitchen to the left that doubled as a dinning room. A wooden table for four sitting neatly in between the kitchen and living room, with a desk and computer area crammed to the side of the couch. His living room was pretty large, with a nice panoramic window spanning half the wall, looking out over a harbour and bridge leading out of the city. Another hallway, lying near the entrance led down to a pair of bedrooms, one his, one guest, and a decently sized bathroom with a tub and shower.

After living at the circus, then at the mansion and then at the enormous Titans Tower, he'd gladly embraced the small abode of his apartment and felt very content in the smaller space.

It wasn't much, but he was pretty happy with the place. This area of town wasn't as run down as it used to be, giving way to real estate growth the last few years and a constantly declining crime rate, thanks in part to their resident cop.

After clicking on a small lamp sitting on an end table next to his three-seater black couch, Dick makes his way into the kitchen, depositing the duffel and grocery bag on the kitchen counter. Having decided before he had gotten home that he would have a quick shower before making dinner, he headed for his bathroom to start the process, stomach already growling at the thought of a good meal.

As he stepped into the dark hallway towards his bathroom, he passed his bedroom door, which was sitting ajar slightly, almost innocently. A normal person wouldn’t have even paid any mind to that fact, except the hairs on the back of his neck stood up quickly and he sharply glanced to the door, hands clenched. No sooner had he taken a step forward did the door burst open and someone, someone large and shrouded in darkness, came barrelling towards him, silent and imposing with their bulk, a fist lashing out.

Before Dick's mind had a chance to catch up with the attacker, his body moved without thinking, reflexes still honed to perfection after years of daily threats and training. He swooped and rolled quickly to the side, farther down the dark hallway. When his mind finally had a chance to catch up, he sprinted forward, fast as lighting with his slim frame and slammed into the person attacking him. The momentum caused both of them to crash into the living room, knocking the end table over, the lamp tipping forward and bulb shattering on impact with the wooden flooring after its decent, removing the only source of light in the apartment.

Dick was breathing hard, adrenaline pumping through him in an invigorating wave. His attacker was back on their feet, coming for him with powerful punches that Dick was quick to block and counter.

 _Shit, who the fuck is this guy?_ Cause he was pretty sure it was a male, if the strike of his punches and the bulk of his frame was anything to go by. But the apartment was too dark and only a small frame of moonlight was dusting the living room a little too far away to see any clear features.

The man attacked again, getting through his defences and grabbing him by his shirt and waist, literally chucking him across the room like a rag doll. Dick's back hit the wall by his window with a hard thud, the curtains rustling on their rings, and he releases a pained grunt, knowing that his back was going to bruise.

He didn't have much time to think about about that, as his impending doom was upon him again, quick and agile despite his big stature. Dick assessed his surroundings, looking for anything he could use as he fought the man off with his hand- to- hand skills, knowing that he had a few weapons hidden in strategic places around the room.

_If this guy knew where I lived, he is probably a professional and checked the place out before I got home. I don't know if he found my stashes, what if I take that risk and it comes up empty...? Shit!_

Dick quickly realizes that he needs to get to the kitchen, spotting the shadow of his knife rack resting over his stove. He steadied himself, waiting for an opening.

 _There!_ The man, for some reason, pauses in his attack, allowing Dick the opportunity to strike. He jumps upwards, using the momentum to wrap his thighs around his attackers neck, using the force of his legs to swing the man upside down, his back crashing hard into the coffee table. Dick used this moment to sprint towards the kitchen, but not before the guy was back on his feet, apparently startled by Dick's move, but not deterred by it.

_Who the fuck IS THIS GUY?_

His attacker approaches quick, Dick's foot shoots out and kicks his kitchen table towards him, allowing him a few precious seconds to grab whatever knife was available to him. The burly man grunts on impact from the projectile, but Dick was quicker, in and out of the kitchen, a large knife held securely in his hand as he charges forward towards the man again.

In the ensuing scuffle, it becomes apparent to Dick that this guy was no joke. His skills against an opponent in a knife fight _clear_ as Dick continued to miss his mark.

_I need an opening, I need an opening..._

They were still fighting in the living room, his attacker backing up towards the coffee table that he had not moments ago been thrown on. The table hit the edge of the man's leg and the one second he took to acknowledge the obstacle in the way was all Dick needed to land a massive spartan kick with the balls of his feet to the man's chest. He trips back, over the coffee table and Dick charges him again, pinning the man to the wall with the knife poised at his throat.

“ **WHO ARE YOU?!** ” Dick snarls, spit splattering into the man's face as he shouts, knife poised and cutting into white flesh of the man's neck. His blue eyes deadly, glaring fiercely, adrenaline pumping so fast and hard through his veins, he thought his heart might explode, panting harshly in anger and fear.

There was a deep chuckle and a pause, a raspy voice accompanying soon after in a voice that Dick could _never_ mistake.

“I guess you aren't as rusty as I thought.”

It was at that moment that the moonlight from the curtain that had been ruffled in their fight, shinned brightly on the man's face, his eye patch iconic and silver eye intimidating.

Dick gasps out right, _“Slade?!”_ the knife clattering out of his hands and to the floor, thankfully not hitting either of their feet in the ensuing shock.

The man in question smirks, that devastating, frustratingly, devilish smirk.

“Hello, Robin.”

* * *

“ _Yes_ , Mrs. Delanie, I am so sorry, I got a little carried away while working out. I apologize for the noise complaint, it won't happen again.” There was a sharp, angry female voice on the other end of the cell phone that Dick was using, before a pause. “Yes, I _understand_ there are children right below me and that they were woken up.” Another burst of anger. “I...yes, yes of course...i understand she is a single mother who needs to get up for work in six hours. I promise it won't happen again. Very _very_ sorry.”

Then there was a rather loud _“see that you don't officer grayson! Have a little more curtsey! Hmph!”_ before the line went dead and Dick was listening to a dial tone.

Dick returns the cell phone to its place on his kitchen counter, a light chuckle sounding from the couch in the living room as he sighs in quiet relief at his landlord's rather pissed off phone call having _finally_ ended

At hearing the bane of his existence laugh, he whirls around in anger, “and what the fuck are _you_ laughing at? This is your fault!”

That damn smirk again. “Playing the perfect little citizen, Robin? How dreary.”

“I _am_ a perfect citizen, thank you very much,” Dick huffs out as he relocates into the living room, standing only a few feet away from the man with arms crossed and a frown on his face as he takes the one-eyed criminal in.

_He's still stupidly hot, ugh..._

Slade hadn't changed much since the last time he had seen him. He was sitting casually on his couch, legs spread and arms laying atop the back, like a cocky brat. White hair still short but ruffled, likely due to their fight not twenty minutes earlier. His white facial hair trimmed and neat looking. He was wearing a grey v-neck t-shirt and black pants and black boots, not a single weapon on him. Not even armour. It was a very casual look on him.

Slade was watching him look him over, his one eye intense and critical.

“See something you like?”

_That smirk, that fucking smirk I wanna smack it off his face..._

Dick rolls his eyes, “ugh!”

When Slade was about to say something else, Dick holds up his hand to silence him. “ _No!_ I can't deal with this right now! I am going to have a shower. _You_ are going to clean up this mess and maybe, _maybe_ , when I decide to grace you with my presences again you can tell me what the fuck is going on! Until then, I need a minute.” Dick then quickly makes himself scarce, heading towards his room for his things needed for his shower, feeling irritated.

“Hmmm, bossy,” Slade's mutter follows him, before he calls out. “Do you need some help with your show--”

“No!” and he's slamming the bathroom door shut.

* * *

In the shower, after Dick could finally catch his breath, the adrenaline of fighting an unknown attacker finally flushing through his system. But with it, a new intense feeling washes over him, a reaction that he didn't know how to feel about. A feeling he hadn't felt in years.

_What is Slade even doing here? I haven't seen him for five years. After we...and then he just fucking shows up? Out of nowhere??_

Perhaps years ago, when he was a teenager, having Slade in his home would have scared the shit out of him. He was the big bad of his teenage self, the man who gave him nightmares, who he simultaneously feared and respected. Who he obsessed over endlessly day after day, when will he attack next? Where will he pop up? When will I see him again...? Where did you go? Pay _attention_ ...pay attention to me Slade, Slade, Slade, _Slade_....

It wasn't until he was older, after the Titans, that he realized that part of his obsession had been sexual. That he _wanted_ the man. Dick had never understood why Slade disappearing all those years ago after Trigon, had hurt him so much, especially without saying goodbye. Until he had been older, that is. After Slade had disappeared with his new body to never be heard from again, Dick had just gotten lost in his obsession even more.

It was then that he had found out about who the man actually was, doing as much research on the Batcave computers as he could. It was then, during his police schooling that he had finally seen the man's face, what he looked like behind the mask. Where he learned that Slade was actually Deathstroke the Terminator, a mercenary for hire who killed for money.

For months he had contemplated why Slade had even bothered with him in the first place, considering he had just toyed with him and his friends for two years back in Jump. And _sure_ , he had said he'd wanted an apprentice, someone to be by his side.

But... at the end of the day, what exactly had Slade be playing at?

Dick hadn't had much to offer the man. But Slade had always said that Dick was special to him... for years he had tried to put that all behind him.

But it hadn't mattered, after moving to BludHeaven, five years ago, he had ironically met back up with the man, at a bar of all places. Dick still wasn't sure if the man had been on a job or not, but Dick had been older, twenty-three at the time, alcohol had been in his system and while he hadn't been drunk, seeing the man again had made all those repressed feelings explode and they had spent an entire night in a hotel room fucking like the world was ending. Before Slade had literally just vanished, again, like he had after Trigon, without a trace, like a ghost. Without a word.

_Jesus, I am being dramatic..._

It was still true.

Ten minutes later Dick was finally finished his shower. But was still recoiling for everything that had happened. Seeing Slade again made a lot of emotions come to the forefront of his mind.

But, at least he knew one thing, Slade wasn't going to hurt him. They didn't have that kind of relationship anymore, he knew he was safe from the man himself. He didn't fear him like he did years ago. There were both different people now, or at least Dick was.

 _Even though he just tried to kick the shit outta me in my own apartment_ , Dick frowned, annoyed. But no, Slade had just been testing his skills. A very Slade-like thing to do.

Robin sighs and dries off, putting on a pair of grey sweat pants and a black beater. He opens the door, swallowing down his stupid feelings.

_It's time to face the beast..._

* * *

When Dick finally gets up the courage to head back out into his living room, he is actually surprised to see that Slade had, in fact, cleaned up and despite some minor areas, the apartment looked to be in much the same state it had been when he had first arrived home.

The man was currently rummaging around his kitchen, having discovered his grocery bag, the wine and was cutting up vegetables at his small kitchen island.

Dick huffs, arms crossed again as he stares the man down. “First you attack me, _then_ you clean up, and _now_ you are making dinner? Should I call Bruce to have you escorted to Arkham, you've clearly lost your mind.”

Slade chuckles and eyes him over the island. It was kind of surreal to see the man doing something as mundane as cutting up vegetables.

 _Especially since last time I saw him_ , _we were naked and much less coherent..._

“While I don't regret testing your skills, I actually did not expect such a visceral reaction from you, you have clearly not lost your touch. I am...impressed.”

_Do not blush! Do not care about what he thinks of you..._

HA! Fat chance at that!

Dick rolls his eyes and comes closer, inspecting the progress that had been made. The steak was already cut up and simmering in the pan, awaiting the vegetables that Slade was almost finished with. “Uhuh, not real sure why you thought I wouldn't fight back. Some crazy asshole was attacking me in my home. I thought I was going to have to kill you.”

“You certainly looked like you might. I admit I was a little distracted by your reaction to our fight, like a cornered panther, beautiful, yet dangerous and lethal, just like I taught you.” Slade was watching him with his intense grey eye, small grin on his face. “That throw you did with your thighs, however, was very unexpected. Makes me wonder what else you can do with your thighs, Robin.”

Dick makes a face, “don't flirt with me!” He stomps over, small pout on his face and swipes the wine from off the counter, searching around the cupboards for the cork screw. When he finds that, he quickly heads over to the table a few feet from the kitchen island, pulling out a chair and making himself comfortable, “and stop calling me that.”

“What, a sexy piece of ass?” _Was that a purr? Did Slade just purr at me? I am not going to survive this night, am I?_

“The Robin name, stop calling me that, it's not what I go by now.” Dick took a long swig of the wine bottle, not bothering to pour a glass. He was going to need the alcohol.

Slade placed the vegetables in the pan, they sizzled and the sweet smell of meat and salt floats into the air. Dick's stomach growls and reminds him that yes, it was still there and yes it was _still_ hungry.

“Don't want me to call you my precious little bird anymore?” The man came over, his muscles bulging in his grey v-neck t-shirt, full cleavage too by the way. He grabs the wine bottle from Dick's hand, taking a swig, throat muscles contracting as he drinks.

It was really distracting.

“Ugh, that was actually never _not_ creepy.” Dick swiped the bottle again, taking a long haul off the thing, glad for once that he had gotten a larger size. “You know you said that to sixteen year old me, right? You creep.”

He takes another long swig of the wine.

Slade learns in close suddenly, bending down a little bit, a smirk planted firmly on his features, hands holding to the chair the younger of the two is sitting on. Dick could smell his cologne, his sweat from their fight, his presence intimidating and arousing and masculine all at once. “Careful Dick, remember what happened last time you drank a bunch of wine?”

Dick's brain kind of melts a little bit, like a candle burning aflame and maybe it was because of the alcohol in his system that made him blurt out, dying in shame as it comes out a little breathless “ _yeah_ I remember, Dick rode a _dick_...”

Slade barks out a laugh all of a sudden, like he'd not been expecting that, his one eye widening in surprise, before a leer appears on his face.

“ _Oh my god_ , just kill me now!” It was then Dick's turn to melt into the _chair_ , his face bright red. Slade continues to chuckle and eye him, but Dick was saved from death by embarrassment when the mercenary finally just turns away to finish cooking the food in the pan. He was painfully naïve in his thought process, however, when Slade says very calmly, glancing at him over his shoulder “don't worry Dick, I liked the dick on dick action too.”

“No! _Nope!_ I changed my mind, I don't want you calling me that either! Go back to the other name!"

Dick then quickly gets up from his chair and heads into the living room, where he feels much safer, putting some distance between him and the mercenary platting their food now. He turns on the television, trying to ignore the muscular shaped elephant in the room, who was currently making him food and flirting. It was all very domestic, Dick couldn't help his pout.

_This is not good..._

His feels his traitorous heart give out a flutter.

* * *

He doesn't bother thanking the man for making him dinner, especially considering his initial behaviour when he'd first arrived. He could already feel the bruise on his back starting to smart from where Slade had thrown him across the room. Dick also refrained from looking at the man while he was eating next to him and paid an unhealthy amount of attention to the boring news story that was playing on T.V at the moment.

He wanted to ask Slade why he was here, but was a little unsure if he wanted to know the answer. He could be here on a job...fuck, Dick could _be_ the job for all he knew.

But no, he was... _pretty_ sure that even if Slade was contracted to kill him, the man might not be inclined to take the job... _however_...what did he _really_ know?

The officer gave the man a short side glance, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He was...fairly sure the man wouldn't be sitting next to him if he had planned his untimely death. Slade wasn't about all the razzle dazzle of killing like, say the Joker might be. He was the type of man who would kill you quick and efficient and you would be dead without even knowing it.

Besides, he and Slade had an... _understanding_ now...didn't they?

It was halfway through eating when Dick had a thought, fork midway towards his mouth with vegetables and steak. He turns to Slade, to find him already watching him, the man having finished his food already and was drinking from the bottle of wine that was half empty. He was sitting one seat over on his couch. Seeming perfectly content to watch him, like he was a predator and Dick was his prey.

“Is this a booty call?” Dick finally asks after their impromptu staring contest. He thinks that Slade likes the fact that he doesn't back down, won't look away and cower in his presence.

Slade raises an eyebrow at him, like he's especially innocent, and not devious and smart and just the right amount of underhanded to make you hot and bothered, well, at least in Dick's case, anyway. “What makes you say that?”

Dick gives him a critical eye, finishing off his plate and setting it on the coffee table that had somehow survived over two hundred and fifty pounds of Slade landing harshly on top of it. “Well, for starters...you show up, out of _nowhere_ mind you, five-ish years after I last saw you and you do some weird Slade foreplay fight with me. Then...you clean up my apartment like a guilty puppy, make me _dinner_ and now we are sharing wine on my couch, in the dark, at eleven at night.”

“We're not in the dark, the television is on,” the man deadpans.

“You are _so_ missing the point Slade, what the fuck are you doing here then? Like really? I don't _think_ your here to kill me...” he mumbles that last part, still a little unsure.

“Maybe I was just in the neighbourhood and wanted to see my favourite bird--”

Dick pretends to gag.

“My favourite Robin, then?”

A glare this time.

“Favourite Officer?”

“Not buying it Slade.”

“How about my favourite _Dick?_ ”

“Gross.”

The man smirks, his tone just a touch fond, but only if you squinted and had spent the better part of a decade studying everything there was to know about Slade Wilson so you could see it in his single eye, “how about _just_ my favourite then?”

That gets a reaction from Dick. Slade gives him a smouldering look, his one eye intent and focused, slickly moving up and down his body in a way that makes the younger man feel hot all of a sudden. Dick's heart starts racing a little bit at the heat in the man's intense stare and the way that his body is angled towards him, well...he cannot help but feel drawn to him.

Slade's eyebrows quirk when Dick stays silent, but shuffles to his knees on the couch. His smaller frame slowly makes his way over the single cushion separating them and into the mercenary's personal space. Dick gives the man his best heavy lidded stare, inch by inch, he moves his head closer and closer to the man, his hand reaching up and tangling in the white hair that he was surprised to learn years ago was very soft.

He glances down at the man's lips, “ _Slade_ ,” he whispers, putting as much heat into his voice as possible. He runs his hand down along the man's neck, gripping the white hair there and pulling the older man's neck back, leaning in even closer to him, their lips almost touching. The sexual tension is ridiculous, even after so long apart. Both staring heatedly at each other. Dick leans in, his lips slightly grazing the man's own, can taste the breath on both their lips. “Give it to me...” Dick whispers.

“ _Hmmm_ ,” Slade purrs and leans in, trying to get a kiss. Dick smirks and backs away, his hand pulling away from the man's short hair. Slade frowns at being denied.

“I said give it to me Slade,” the young officer grins, pointedly looking at the wine bottle, his hand comes up and he's making a grab motion. “The wine, give it to me, what the hell did you think I wanted? Creep.”

He quickly grabs the wine bottle that Slade had forgotten in his hand in the heat of the moment. When he scurries back to his spot on the couch and looks back at the mercenary's glare, he can't help bursting out in laughter.

Dick gives the man a wink, “w _hat_? I just really wanted some more wine.”

* * *

Dick decides quickly that it might be best to put a little distance between them and gathers up the dishes they used for dinner and heads over to the kitchen, putting them next to the sink. He runs the water warm and fills up the sink with a little soap, washing the few dishes that they had gotten dirty.

_Holy shit, that was hot..._

It had taken so much of his will power to not kiss the man. But he felt good knowing that he had gotten one up on him after how he had basically uprooted his entire night with his presence. Slade had neither confirmed nor denied the booty call, but Dick knew there had to be another reason the man had just shown up out of the blue.

_There is always an ulterior motive with him..._

Maybe he really did just want a piece of his ass though. Dick doesn't know how he feels about that. Sure, he hasn't gotten laid in...almost a year...okay, so he has been busy with work, so what? But, while his dick throbs a little bit with the thought of Slade giving him a good dicking, his chest feels tight with the thought.

_He'll just fuck me and then leave, just like he did before._

Was he okay with that?

His younger, twenty-three year old self hadn't been okay with that, when it had happened. He'd felt bitter, betrayed, especially since it had been the second time now that he'd been left without so much as a goodbye. Dick had been so pissed off about it that he'd considered packing up all his things and hunting the damn bastard down himself, just to give him a piece of his mind. But, he never did, because at the end of the day, Slade killed people for a living and he could see just where that rabbit hole led, getting involved with him and...it was nowhere he wanted to venture.

No, his long-standing obsession with the man was now on a low simmer, for a year or two at least.

Now that he thought about it, it had actually been a pretty long time since he had even thought about Slade at all. He guessed that showed maturity, sure. Dick hadn't been relentlessly pursuing any information on the man for some time now, his heart finally settling on the hard truth that the man was bad news and it was probably for the best that he hadn't stuck around after their dalliance. Although he felt that way, at the moment he was _certainly_ feeling ten years of pent up feelings, with the man in question in his home.

Part of himself was pinning. He was annoyed to admit to himself that he had missed the man...a lot, apparently, if his ever pounding heart was any indication. Because despite Slade's questionable job classifications, he was still a person and, he had honor and pride. He cracked jokes, he had his own morale compass and was unquestionably sincere when he gave his word. He was witty and smart as hell and he didn't have time to get into the mercenaries impressive set of skills and talents on the battlefield. They kind of spoke for themselves.

If it wasn't for the murderous elephant in the room, Slade would be a catch.

One that Dick would bait for as long as it took to reel him in.

He feels a grimace overtake his features.

He can't think these things.

Thinking about him and Slade, in that way, is redundant and impossible.

But...he's always had questionable, unhealthy feelings for this man, and it is what it is. He's always felt this way and he probably always will.

The fact that Slade seems to not be able to stay away either, points to the fact that the mercenary is in the same boat. They are kind of entwined now, but hadn't they always been anyway? 

Dick had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he never even noticed Slade entering the kitchen behind him, until the man had plastered himself to his backside. The young man gasps wetly when muscular arms trap him in against the sink, lips skirting against his neck, causing goosebumps to erupt, a shiver setting loose inside him that travelled all the way down his spine. Those lips travel upwards, ghosting across the bottom of his hair line before reaching his right ear.

“I remember a time when my mere presence caused you to go on full alert. Never take your eyes off the enemy less he get the upper hand against you. The fear and drive I saw in you every time we met on and off the battlefield was invigorating.” Slade's hands travelled from the counter and up towards his abs, one of them slipping inside his black beater, inching upwards and grazing his left nipple.

Dick let out a shaky breath, his hands, still a little wet from dish duty reach up and grasp onto Slade's arms in desperation, unsure if he was trying to hold on to them or push them away. The man's body was a furnace behind him, fully flush against his backside. Dick has a fluttering thought to the irony that he was exactly the perfect height for Slade's pelvis to fit snugly against his ass, before the mercenary starts speaking again. His voice was husky, hypnotizing, full of so much heat that the blue-eyed man couldn't help but melt, his back arching a little, head tilting back. “There _never_ would have been a time back then where you turned your back to me. Too much fear, too much pride, too much at _stake_ for you, your little friends...that power I had over you...”

Dick trembled, caught in the mercenary's spell. Slade's hand not touching his nipples travel low, to the waistband of his grey sweats, thumb nudging just _so,_ ticklish under the hem of his underwear, feeling the soft coarse hair that signalled his happy trail.

“I...I...” the officer stutters out, unable to form words, feeling trapped and hot...so so _hot_. His face is on fire.

“But look at you now,” Slade mutters, smirk flowing over his neck as the man continued his slow torture, hands and lips leaving burning trails in their wake. The hand below his waist grows bolder, caressing his pubic hair in an almost reverent way. Dick was hard, painfully so and already throbbing.

“Imagine my shock at seeing you again all those years ago, seeing the lust in your eyes, the way you fell apart at my touch the moment you gave in to me...much like you are now.” Dick felt a burst of embarrassed shame redden his face, just from a few simple touches and a few enticing words. He was putty and he knew it... _Slade_ knew it. “I believe I enjoy this power over you even _more_...this desire you have for me, that I have in return for you... my little _Robin_ ”

Dick made a soft noise at the name he wouldn't allow anyone else to call him, not anymore at least, his ass arching against the man's hardon pressing into his backside.

“ _Slade..._ ” Dick flushed even more at the way he basically whimpered the man's name. The lust spilling off his lips left little doubt how much he wanted the mercenary. How much his mind had already shut down and his body was responding to the man.

_So what if he only wants my ass...I can't...I don't want to stop him...I want this...I want him...bastard!_

At his whimper, Slade growls and spins him around, one of his large hands reaching behind and grabbing his short black locks, forcibly gripping the bottom in an imitation of what Dick had done to him earlier. He forced his head forward, their lips locking together so easily, so well, like they hadn't just gone five years without doing this. It felt so right, so intense that Dick let out a groan of lust as another shiver wrecked havoc on his body. Any and all doubts went out the window the moment their lips came together. Dick's arms wrap around the man's neck and pull him forward, their bodies coming together, the shock of pleasure was so immense that the blue-eyed man had to break away from their passionate kissing, panting harshly.

“B...bed,” he pants, Slade's hands digging roughly into his back, keeping him against him, keeping him _secure_. Dick's not sure that he would even be standing right now if it weren't for those strong arms around him.

Slade chuckles, it shouldn't have sounded so sexy, but it is. His voice, his eye, his body, it did things to Dick that he had never felt with anyone else. Not ever.

 _I really am going to die tonight_...was Dick's last coherent thought.

Slade's arms came down, hands cupping the younger man's ass through his sweatpants. Dick's keen of shock was interrupted when Slade picked him up, as easily as if he were a child and proceeded towards the bedroom down the hall.

The officer wrapped his legs tightly around Slade's waist and took this as a golden opportunity to attack Slade's lips and neck. Rough, passionate kisses and bites were littered to every piece of skin available to the blue-eyed man.

The mercenary was breathing heavy, grunting as Dick couldn't help but grind himself into the man's hardness. It caused Slade to slam him into the wall mere feet from his bedroom door, kissing him senseless and rutting against him as if they were two teenagers who had just discovered the fun of dick on dick play for the first time.

“Take this off!” Dick's voice was harsh, panting, but aggressive as he grips the man's stupid distracting v-neck shirt, pulling it quickly over his head and throwing it to the side when Slade's naked chest was revealed. He then pulls his own black beater off, “c _hrist_ , ” Dick mutters, nails racking through the mercenary's hair, down his back, touching anything he could in his current position. “We...we need to get naked _now_ ,” he pants, blue eyes clouded over with lust. “Hurry up and get naked Slade! What the hell are you waiting for? The bed is right through the door!”

“Hmm, so bossy,” the man's words were a little breathless. But he complies, quickly pushing open the door and carrying Dick over the threshold and practically throwing him on the bed, him landing sideways so his legs were still leaning over the side. The only light in the room is from the moon, shinning bright through the small window behind the bed frame, the black curtains having been left partially open that morning before he had gone to work.

Dick had the back of his right hand covering his forehead, chest heaving breaths into his lungs a mile-a-minute as he panted against the sheets. Slade was standing tall above him, just taking in the sight of the young man completely at his mercy. The young officer was beautiful, no one would ever be able to deny that and he was _his_ for the taking.

Just as Dick was about to say something about getting on with it, Slade moves forward, one minute he was about to cuss the man out about being too slow, the next his sweatpants and underwear had been removed and he was finally fully naked.

He feels a rush of air hit his long, aching cock, its head throbbing as it was finally freed after being hard for a while now. Dick hisses softly in relief, and then gasps loudly as Slade sinks to his knees next to the bed, hands gripping his waist and pulling him forward. He forces his legs wide apart, his intense gaze locking on Dick's own stunned one.

Slade had _not_ sucked him last time they had been together.

 _Oh fuck_...Dick wasn't sure what expression his lover of the night saw on his face, but the man smirked devilishly at him and took him in his mouth. No lead up, no nothing, just sunk down on him effortlessly and efficently.

The officer's breath left him in a stuttering exhale of disbelief and pleasure. His mouth fell open in stunned ecstasy, body falling back to the bed. His back arched of its own accord, legs lifting and wrapping around the man's head as he went down on him. Slade was still keeping his thighs spread wide and Dick could barely look at the picture of debauchery happening between his legs.

When the mercenary began to suck him instead of just bobbing up and down, Dick's body withered with such intense sensations that he didn't know what to do with himself.

“ _Fuccck_ ,” he moaned low, his voice completely wrecked and raspy. Voice hitching again as Slade sucked him from base to tip, getting faster and faster as he went, “ohh...oh _god_...” his voice sounded so intimate, so lost in the pleasure, mouth open, head tilted back, body arched, legs withering and twitching. He keeps his hands away from Slade's head, not knowing how much he could get away with and not wanting the man to stop. He clenches and unclenches his hands in the sheets, body shaking as the mercenary sucked him towards a fast approaching orgasm.

Another whimper escaped him when the mouth fell from his aching hardness, trailing up his thighs and nipping and sucking at the skin there. Dick knew there would be bruises there tomorrow, probably really sensitive ones with the way Slade was sucking them into his skin, but that was a problem for tomorrow Dick, as current Dick was thoroughly enjoying the ministrations.

After a few moments, Slade finally seemed content with his work and pushed himself upwards and onto the bed. His bulk and muscles sliding over the officer's body in an enticing glide of skin on skin perfectly. Or at least it would have been perfect had the mercenary not been wearing pants, boots having already been removed earlier in the evening before dinner.

Slade took a moment to leer down at the younger man before him, hands clenching the sheets mindlessly . His face and chest flushed dark red in pleasure and heat as he panted. Legs spread to accommodate Slade's frame now between them, cock hard and glistening with saliva, red marks tracing up his thighs towards his balls. Short black locks in disarray and falling into his eyes with sweat...and his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes were glaring heatedly at him, blown with lust and desire.

He must have taken too long, because Dick was shooting upwards with a growl, grasping onto the mercenary's pants. It wasn't long before he had the buttons and zipper pulled down, his hand wasting no time in plunging inside to grip his large cock in the small space provided to him.

“Hurry _up_ Slade, I want this in me soon,” his harsh, sneering words were followed up with a tight squeeze that had liquid heat climbing high through the older man's body. Dick uses his legs to push Slade away from him and off the bed, so he could remove the rest of his clothing. While the mercenary busied himself with that, Dick had turned over, groin flush with the bed but ass perky and tantalizing in the air as he reached for his bedside table. The contents of the drawer rattled loudly at the younger man's aggressive pull, searching for the tube of lube he had stashed inside.

They didn't need condoms, part of Slade's solider enhancements made him unable to catch STD's.

Once he found what he was looking for, he made to turn over, but was stopped by two hundred and fifty pounds of naked flesh pushing flush up against his backside, hard cock rubbing up his back thigh and settling smoothly against his puckered entrance, like it belonged there and nowhere else.

Dick let our a shuttering breath, the man's body fully encompassing on top of him, slotting perfectly against him between his legs. The officer felt Slade's left hand trail under his chest, wrapping snugly over his shoulder, breath heavy against his neck. He turns his head sideways so that he could see some of the man, but also so Slade could have better access to his neck.

“Second time you've turned your back on me tonight, Robin,” the man purrs against him. He was thrusting his cock against Dick's dry entrance, teasing him. The officer's eyes clench shut as he flushes. _God... that's gonna be in me soon_ , his mind slurs, overcome. “You cannot even deny how much you want me. I can't say I ever thought of you this way when you were younger, but now...now that I've had a taste of you, it is all I see when I look at you now...how well you take my cock.”

“Your one to talk about turning ones back,” Dick rasps, voice thick and heady as the man continues to thrust against him. “N..no weapons, no armour in our fight...no wonder I kicked your ass earlier, if that's all you see now...maybe it's you who...who has lost his touch, huh?”

Slade chuckles, hand around his young lover's shoulder reaching up to tangle in black locks, pushing his face further into the bed sheets. “Oh believe me, I haven't lost my touch. I know what you need little Robin.”

The mercenary then thrusts two lube covered fingers inside of him, meeting little resistance. Dick cries out in shock, ass clenching as the man doesn't stop until both fingers are inside him up to the second knuckle. He hadn't even realized that Slade had grabbed the lube from him, much less when he had had the time to coat his fingers with the stuff. He felt his dick throb against the bed that he was currently plastered too, the rough treatment setting off all kinds of buttons inside of him. A new, deep flush spread across his body, their little banter completely forgotten when Slade began to thrust those fingers in and out of him relentlessly.

“Fucking hell... _asshole_!”

Slade smirks and then pulls his fingers out after a minute of turning his young lover's mind to mush. Dick resists the urge to whimper as they are removed, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction. The mercenary then picks him up, manhandling him into a horizontal position on his back, black locks spread out over his blue pillows as they repositioned properly on the bed.

Slade then comes forward quickly, his muscular body saddling up against him once again, their dicks rubbing enticingly together. Dick moans lowly as two lubed fingers once again find home inside of him, his eyes barely slits as they fought to stay open.

It wasn't long after that that Slade felt he was prepared enough, removing his hands, cock lubed up and sliding up against his wet opening.

“I'm going to fuck you now, Robin, brace yourself.” He is then leaning down and he takes Dick's lips with his own, tongue slick against him and as he begins to push inside.

Their passionate kiss had distracted him from the slide of Slade's cock entering him, enough that when he finally bottoms out inside of him, they continue to kiss, cock stilled for now, both their tongues battling it out between them in a heated embrace. Both of Slade's forearms were on either side of his head, right hand gripping his neck and hair as the locked mouths.

Everything was so intimate, so sensual and primal. There was no romance between them, but Dick felt an immense connection in that moment with the man. Felt everything in his mind and body finally give in to this feeling inside him, his blue eyes tearing up a little at all the emotions he was feeling.

Upon seeing the look on Dick's face, Slade couldn't help but finally begin thrusting inside him, hands roughly pulling the officers head back, exposing his neck. “ _My boy_...” he growls, attacking his neck with harsh bites, thrusts becoming faster and faster.

At hearing those words, Dick couldn't swallow back his whimper this time, knowing that the time for shame and embarrassment was long gone. Dick wraps his arms around his neck and legs around his waist. “ _God_ , you... _you bastard_...” he moans out, tensing up with a shudder when his prostate was pounded into at a ridiculous pace. He can't even keep his eyes open anymore, the bliss washing over him in waves. “ 's good... _fuck_ you feel good. Harder Slade...fuck me _hard_ ,” he breaths in a rush, hands tangled in the man's hair, gripping and pulling the locks. "Fuck me!"

Slade snarls out his name, his thrusts picking up. The moment seemed to cast over both of them, both lost to the intensity, the feeling of each other, the rough sound of skin slapping against skin. Slade's balls were slapping heavily against Dick's ass every time he thrust inside. The young man was moaning constantly now, unable to hold back in the face of the brutal fucking he was receiving. His body was clinging around his older lover's like a vice, keeping him in place, trembling as a familiar feeling started to build inside of him.

Slade released his harsh grip on his hair, taking a hold of Dick's arms and pushing them over his head, locking them in place together with his own. This allowed him some leverage, and he reared up and if anything, was fucking him even harder than before. Bed now slamming against the wall and Dick had never been so happy to have an outside wall in his life. The man was fucking relentless, each hit directly on his prostate causing spurts of precum to shoot from his cock crammed between their bellies, having been completely untouched this entire time. Dick wasn't even sure he was breathing anymore.

He felt a warmth start at the tips of his toes, the sensation flowing up his body steadily. He threw his head back, mouth dropping open in rapture. “ _Oh fuck! Ooooh fuck!_ don't stop Slade,” he called out desperately. “ _Don't stop!_ ”

His pleasure rose to reach a crescendo, and a ringing in his ear began drowning out Slade's grunts and harsh breathing in his ear. His other senses dulled. His body was at a continuous tremble, coiled tight and tense with anticipation, barely able to keep breath in his lungs. A sharp spike of hot bliss burst from his spine and arched across his groin, it caused a harsh and heavy cry to escape Dick's mouth, before everything spiralled, rising and rising until all his senses went blank and white hot liquid heat erupted from his groin and he came and came and came...

* * *

Minutes later, Dick was still panting harshly, his and Slade's stomachs covered in strips of white cum that had continued to spurt out of his cock in rapid succession. At some point during Dick's overwhelming orgasm, Slade had also cum inside of him and was leaning and breathing heavily against him, body shuddering and trembling as well as they lay against each other.

Dick was barely aware of the man moving out and off of him at some point later after they had caught their breaths, not particularly caring as he was in and out of consciousness, even when a warm wash cloth was wiping away the cum from his chest and ass. It wasn't until he felt the warmth of the man return to the bed, his body being pulled against a chest that he allowed himself to finally fall asleep.

Whatever this was, whatever Slade was doing here, it would have to be dealt with in the morning. For now, he was warm, sated and content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell that was filthy. I am absolutely not sorry though. Hmm, I wonder what Slade is really doing in Bludhaven. I have a little bit more written for this, but as of now I am leaving it up as a one-shot. If anyone wants me to do a continuation of this, feel free to let me know :)
> 
> /Jayto


	2. House Mouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second update for this. Posted this one-shot almost a year ago and recently got the urge to write a sequel to it. 
> 
> It takes place only a few hours after the first chapter, so it is a direct continuation. So, might be beneficial to reread chapter 1 :) 
> 
> This story follows the canon events of Teen Titans the cartoon from 2003 ( _not_ Teen Titans Go! what the hell even is that show?)
> 
> Either way, hope you enjoy. I have no beta, so be weary of grammar mistakes.

It's only a few hours later.

Dick is sitting up in his bed, legs crossed, both his hands clenched together. He's got his chin resting on them as he regards his sleeping companion beside him. The moon is still high in the sky, the time close to 4AM and he's tired. So _so_ tired and _sore_ like, freaking _everywhere_...and just ugh...he feels gross. But also satisfied too and kind of pleased...and his mind is warring frantically with happiness and disgust at himself.

For his weakness.

For how easy he submitted to Slade. For how much he _wanted_ it. Wanted _him_. _Still_ wants him.

For...how much he goddamned _missed_ him, the stupid bastard! How ridiculously annoyed he is that it had taken Slade _five fucking years_ to seek him out again.

Dick isn't right in the head, he knows this, but it doesn't stop how he feels.

Slade is actually asleep. Has been for a while now. He isn't snoring, but unless he is an incredibly dedicated pretender, he is out like a light.

Dick doesn't know how to feel about that. That the mercenary apparently feels so comfortable in his presence that he would allow himself to be this vulnerable. He is a bad guy, a dastardly villain, a conniving, strategic and overly guarded individual. He is a _killer_ , with a long ass rap sheet and an even bigger list of people who want him dead...

But here he was, his guard completely dropped and soundly asleep like it wasn't this big, monumental thing that continued to keep Dick awake after he'd woken up by accident earlier.

He had never seen him sleep before and...it is kind of messing with him a little bit. Makes his stomach flutter in weird ways.

Back during their first time together, Dick had passed out relatively quick after all the fun had been over and Slade had been gone when he'd awoken. Even back when he'd spent a few months as the man's apprentice, he'd never seen him sleep or eat or anything that would give away to the fact that a real, human person was behind that intimidating orange and black mask.

He wonders if the man even still has that mask. Knowing that he'd only wore it for his time in Jump City.

He sighs frustrated and blows out a breath of air that makes a few strands of his hair move in his annoyance. He quickly and efficiently removes himself from the bed, throwing on a pair of grey sweatpants while casting a quirked, critical eyebrow at the man who was still in dreamland, completely oblivious to Dick's inner turmoil and thoughts.

It was time to do some snooping.

* * *

He spends the next hour in his living room. He's sitting on the floor in front of the couch, leaning over his coffee table, with his laptop. His highly advanced, ridiculously _illegal_ laptop that had been created in the Batcave and quickly catches up on all of Slade's business over the last few years.

There isn't too much. Only two people dead in over a dozen jobs, but both of those kills tracked back to less than questionable people who he could concede, were probably better off dead anyway.

To a normal, government funded database, it doesn't look like Slade has been very active at all. But, to a database that had been created by Batman himself there is a lot more information provided.

He finds himself getting lost in the gain, of processing and retaining new information. He'd always been a quick study and it shows as he starts to mutter a bit, putting bits and pieces together and creating a time-line in his head.

As far as he can tell, Slade hasn't done any work around in Dick's part of the country in years. Most of his known targets have actually been overseas, a small stint in Washington as well, which makes Dick's eyebrows furrow with curiosity.

There is nothing too bloody that he can see, but then, Slade had always been more for efficiency than messy anyway. He didn't like to leave a trace, did his jobs with extreme precision and prided himself on being in the shadows and undetectable.

He digs a little deeper and finds nothing much of interest. Most of his jobs the last little while have been mundane, nothing too high profile or violent...which, he isn't sure why that surprises him, really, but it does.

When he finds nothing more of interest in his database, he sighs and ruffles his bedhead with his hand, pulling his sore muscles up from the floor and heading towards his kitchen to get a glass of water. He's leaning up against the counter, arms crossed over his bare chest as he drinks, a contemplative frown on his face.

He might have to resort to other means of gathering clues.

There was always the option of using his resources and getting a third party involved, most likely Batman in this case. But, he doesn't really feel like opening _that_ can of worms. Bruce is probably still awake even at five in the morning too and in a normal situation he wouldn't even hesitate. But he decides not to go that route.

He'd never told anyone, not a single living _soul_ , that he'd had a fling with Slade and he is reluctant to get anyone with half a brain involved, because Bruce would see past him immediately.

It's not for shame or embarrassment that he keeps to himself, however, as much as it probably _should_ be the reason.

It is more a feeling of possessiveness that drives him to keep his feelings and complicated relationship with the mercenary on the down low. Slade has always been _his_ problem to deal with. His puzzle to solve. They have always had their secret connection, private and resolute, but very real and personal and deep, in lots of different ways. In ways that no one else has ever understood.

There is no rhyme or reason for why he feels possessive over Slade.

He just does.

Slade is his to figure out...

...and right now, he needs to figure out why the bloody bastard is in Bludhaven, making himself cosy in his apartment.

* * *

Dick decides to go with plan C.

He figures that Slade must have come here with _some_ equipment. But, finding where the mercenary has stashed his personal belongings might prove difficult. He could have a safe house somewhere for all Dick knew. Tracking down where he might have set up camp in Bludhaven was doable, but would take time. Time that he really didn't have at the moment, considering the mercenary in question was only a room away.

He doesn't recall seeing anything on Slade when he'd first made himself known, but then...he'd been testing him. Dick remembers that the one-eyed man had initially been waiting for him in his second, spare bedroom. The officer arches an eyebrow towards his hallway and on a hunch, decides to check out the room.

He finds the space empty of anything belonging to Slade and mutters to himself, knowing that it had really just been shot in the dark. Even if the older man had seemingly let his guard down around him, no way in hell would he just leave out sensitive information for Dick to find all easy-like.

“Dammnit,” he mumbles, frowning again. There isn't much that he can do without alerting Slade to his plans, so he finds himself back at square one reluctantly, left with more questions than answers. Which is always the way with the mercenary.

He grumbles to himself and decides just to leave it till the morning or er...later today, then, when he can try and grill the man for answers or spread his wings a little more thoroughly researching. Maybe snag his phone and work his magic. But then again, Slade might already be gone by then and he'd be left empty handed.

Either way, he'll figure it out. He almost always does.

He makes a quick pit stop in his bathroom to take a leak, flushing the toilet when he finishes up and turning on the water in his sink to wash his hands.

He glances quickly at himself in the mirror and then does a shocked double-take at himself when he catches his own appearance.

There were marks _all_ over him.

From his neck, to his collarbone, down to his stomach and abs, trailing down in a fiery red blaze of glory to where he knows there are marks on the inside of his thighs. Where Slade had bitten sharp bruises into his skin. Dick's eyes are a little sleepy, but vibrant and blue and looked startlingly bright against the backdrop of his jet black hair, buzz cut up the sides, with spiky pieces lying frizzy from sweat over his forehead.

When he sees the state of himself he curses and turns away sharply, feeling his dick swell up with instant interest and approval and he mutters angrily, immediately on edge from his intense reaction at seeing how Slade had left his marks on him.

The feeling of being gross crawls over him again and his eyes snap quickly to the shower as he shudders a little bit, in arousal or disgust, he isn't sure. But he all of a sudden _needs_ to get clean. He's got the shower on in seconds, humid air already warming the small space as the water gets hot. He slides his sweats down his legs, ignoring the ridiculously obvious red marks on his thighs and slips inside past the curtain, uttering a sound of relief when the water starts to gently soothe his achy muscles.

_Goddamn I'm sore..._

Everywhere. His burning ass. The bruise on his side. All those tender marks lining his thighs and shoulder. Muscles tense and raw feeling from their heated fight and even more heated fucking...

Plus, throw on top of that the thirteen hour shift he'd done at the station, he was dead on his feet. The only thing that had been keeping him up at the moment had been his mind. But, he's decided to just head back to bed. He is pretty sure that Slade will be gone by the time he's woken up anyway and then...well, he can deal with the aftermath then.

He literally doesn't have the energy anymore to over-analyze this entire evening. It's just going to be another big fat write off anyway. Another stupid, dumb mistake that he'll regret...but never learn from. It's something that he's accepted about himself by now.

He sighs and leans against the tiled wall, arms crossed and head ducked down under the spray of water as he just stands there for a little while, soaking in the feeling of hot relief.

He is only in the shower for few minutes when he feels the barrel of a gun rest heavily against the back of his head.

Time freezes, baron and cold and _hollow_...for a single moment under the warm spray of water.

Dick feels his lips curve into a small, forlorn smile after his initial reaction. His head is down, water cascading down his shoulders, his face is obscured from the angle and only his lips are visible as he stands there, tense and naked and defenceless.

“Smart,” Dick says casual and low toned, small smirk tugging the side of his lips, as the ringing in his ears finally goes away after he focuses back in on the here and now. “Taking me out at my most vulnerable. When I'm run off my feet and cannot easily defend myself.” he can't help but chuckle under his breath. “I guess if I were in your shoes, I'd probably decide to go the same way. Easier and more efficient a kill. Less risk of a struggle. At least from someone like _me_...”

Slade says nothing, just holds the gun heavy and steady against the back of Dick's head. He can't even feel the man's body. Hadn't heard him come into the room or even when he'd approached and got in behind him. He doesn't hear a sound or a heartbeat, nothing at all to indicate that the mercenary was even behind him.

Just the cold, metal barrel, making contact with the back of his skull.

_'Never turn your back on the enemy less he get the better of you...'_

“Not gonna take me out with your sword, then?” The young officer questions after Slade says nothing, tone quiet, accepting. “ Or a simple knife? I guess slitting my throat would be a lot more messy, but, eh...this _would_ be the ideal place to do it, all that blood down the drain...wouldn't be much for cleanup.”

He hears the gun cock.

Slade never makes a sound.

Dick just breathes out and feels his eyes brighten a little bit, chuckling darkly. “But, _your_ the expert,” he snarks out, callously, “I _hope_ what I feel on that thing is a silencer, because even with the sound of the running water, someone is sure to hear the gunshot. I know you've not met my landlord...but she's a _real_ piece of work.”

There is a silky chuckle then, the tone low and dangerous and it makes the hair on Dick's arms raise, even while water continues to beat down on him. “Is that why you think I am here, Robin? Because I took out a contract for your life?”

Dick laughs without humor, licking his lips a little bit. “I dunno, _did_ you? You've got a gun to my head... _sooo_... you tell me?”

“You think I would kill you? _Could_ kill you?”

“Yes,” Dick whispers out, staring hard at the bathroom tile in front of him. “I think your very capable of something like that, yes.”

“To you?”

“Why not? I'm just being realistic,” Dick says, tone still low, matching the tense atmosphere that had descended upon the bathroom. His blood is boiling.

He wants to say he is surprised.

But really...he's not.

Slade scoffs then, “you think I would have fucked you so thoroughly, had I wanted to kill you?”

“Who the hell knows?” Dick shrugs, a small laugh, fighting the fierce flush that crawls across his face at the man's lewd words. “I have no clue what kind of things you do to get your jollies. For all I know, you sleep with all your jobs. Trust me, if you wanted to, you could.”

“Yes,” the man confirms, sounding smug. “I could.”

Dick feels the gun push harder against his head. “Well?” He questions when a short silence lingers in the air. “What are you waiting for _Deathstroke_?” He hates that name. So much less personal. A persona in all respects. He supposes in his current predicament, it's fitting, to call him by his alias.

“Hmmm,” Slade purrs, like he's waiting for something, “...not what I expected.”

Dick makes an annoyed sound. “ _What?_ Thought I would fight back?”

“Yes.”

“Don't feel like it,” he teases lightly, keeping up with their banter. His heart is racing a mile-a-minute. He doesn't want Slade to see how affected he is, but he knows that man's impressive meta-human senses make that almost impossible.

“ _Oh_?”

“Yep, lucky you...” Dick singsongs in a deadpan, “I'm an easy target. _Hurrah_!”

The officer can practically picture the frown on the man's face at the moment. It makes him feel just a bit smug knowing that he'd done something that Slade hadn't predicted.

“Not afraid to die then, Robin?”

“Nope,” he replies.

But then he shakes his head, raven locks sputtering water side-to-side. He sighs harshly and rolls his eyes in annoyance, making a face, even if the man can't see him. “...you don't even have the gun loaded, do you?” Dick questions, turning around to fully face the man, arching an eyebrow. He glances at the gun in Slade's hand for confirmation and sure enough, the handgun that he is holding doesn't even have a clip inside of it. There might still be a bullet in the chamber, but...he doesn't know for certain. “Not gonna kill anyone with that...” he continues, eyes glancing away for a second and pushing the gun away from his face with barely more than a wave motion.

“Oh, believe me, there are plenty of ways to kill someone without the use of a bullet, “ Slade is saying, his one eye glittering in mirth. “I can name seven extremely effective ways to off someone, even just from inside this space.” Slade is smirking, self-satisfied, while Dick just stands there and frowns as the gun is then lowered and placed at the mercenary’s side.

“Oh, I'm sure you could, bastard...” Dick says defensively, still irritated at Slade's bullshit.

“Tell me the truth, for just a second, you believed I had ill-intentions,” Slade sounds much too cocky and Dick hates it.

“Whatever.” He is then moving closer to the man, staring heatedly into his one-eye and with aggression he reaches behind him and childishly snatches his body wash off the ledge of the tub and scowls at the mercenary who is still watching him intently. “Is your _entire_ visit just going to be attempts to trip me up? Kinda not diggin' it...you definitely used to be more creative.” Dick then levels the mercenary with a smug grin of his own, “who was it again who has lost their touch? You getting up there old timer?”

Slade has him pinned to the wall in two seconds flat with his left forearm, the other still holding the gun at his side. It startles Dick so much that he drops the bottle and clams up. It drops to the acrylic between their feet, the sound resonating heavily in the steam-filled air. His blue eyes go wide in surprise as the man has basically pinned him in place against the tile. He feels his heart practically burst from his chest, his eyes flutter and replace with a hooded expression as a jolt of arousal washes unwanted through him.

Slade is eyeing him critically, his one eye so intense that Dick feels pinned in place just by that calculating stare alone.

The officer curses himself, he's always found intelligent competent people attractive. The mercenary's one, singular eye, went deep. It showed just how much experience had taught him. He was a complex equation, a rubix cube of layers, an enigma that always kept you guessing.

Why did Dick have an obsessive need to pry? To uncover? To solve?

It was literally his nature, curiosity.

Why was most of his time spent researching? Picking apart any little detail he could find about anything that interested him. He'd always like problem-solving, making new discoveries and finding out what made some _thing_ or some _one_ tick.

Slade was a code he'd never been able to crack.

A puzzle that had far too many missing pieces to get a clear picture.

“For one _singular_ moment,” the man drawls seductively, voice low, hypnotic, while dragging the head of the cold gun from Dick's chin, down to the fuze of his water-slicked, black happy trail. Dick feels his breathing pick up the lower the metal traces down. Slade's blazing grey eye slithers over him, eye roaming up and down and smirking devilishly when his gaze rests on his hard cock. The officer had been fully hard the moment Slade had pinned him to the wall and he curses himself in his head for forgetting that he was naked. He feels too vulnerable right then, too exposed. But Slade had always had that effect on him. “For one moment...you thought that you'd been _had._ ”

Dick feels himself gulp, but can't quell the rebellious urge to banter back. “I'm a cop Slade, it was easy to tell that the gun wasn't loaded.”

“So you say,” the man purrs, leaning closer to him and running his tongue up the side of his clavicle, a wet slide up his neck with his prickly beard, until he whispers, directly into his ear in a husky tone. “But you felt that jolt of fear, that moment your heart skipped a beat, body tensing up and adrenaline bursting through your veins like a drug addict getting their fix.”

Dick shudders out a breath, his breathing heavy and panting as goosebumps burst across his skin. He is annoyed and aroused at the same time. His hard dick throbbing in want while his brain growled in defiance.

Yes, for a one _split_ second he'd really thought the man had turned on him.

A horrible feeling of slick, painful betrayal had winded up his spine until the rest of his intuitive senses had kicked in and he'd realized that the man was bluffing.

“ _Whatever_...” he grinds out with clenched teeth, refusing to confirm or deny, eyes glancing off to the side in unknowing submission. Slade always had a way of looking at him that reached far _far_ down into his soul and stroked the fires of his being.

He tries to cross his arms, a natural defense mechanism, but Slade snaps those up too, pinning them to the wall above the raven's head. His larger body sliding up against him fully in the meantime. Water is still beating down on them, easing the way for a sensual roll that causes a full body shiver from Dick. His eyes fall shut without his permission, mouth opening lewdly in a silent gasp of pleasure. He turns his head, showing his neck to the man fully when he feels too overwhelmed by Slade's piecing stare.

“Let me be perfectly clear,” Slade grunts out into his ear, he sounds just a tad raw, almost like he is a little affected himself. “There are not many exceptions to my rules. But you are one of them. Understand?”

Dick gasps softly and nods, completely understanding what the man is implying. His unspoken declaration heard loud and clear. The young cop feels simultaneously flattered that Slade thought so of highly of him, while also being irritated that he gave a shit. He shouldn't care about a killer-for-hire's opinion of him in the first place.

But, he'd always been a sucker for Slade's approval.

“Why do you always have to test me?” Dick wonders out loud, barely a whisper, his blue eyes glistening in a lusty haze as he eyes the mercenary from the side. The man has him effectively caught and the young officer would feel more compelled to remove himself from the situation if his body didn't like it so much. His eyes can't help but roam over the man's muscled chest, noting a few scars here and there. There is a large, jagged looking scar by his heart, with raised red tissue that wasn't there the last time Dick had a seen him. But, scars are normal, he has a few himself.

“You always exceed my expectations,” Slade tells him, using the barrel of the gun to push his head upwards so they are locking eyes. Dick's blue eyes are vibrant, with lust, with annoyance, with curiosity. The way that the gun is positioned, one quick shot and a bullet would go straight through his neck. The metal feels cold against his adams apple, another gulp from him causes it to shift up and down. “This time, however, I was merely making a point.”

Dick frowns and levels the man with a 'not buying it' look. “You expect me to believe that there isn't a single bullet in the chamber...?”

“As what? Some type of last resort scenario?” The man is grinning at him. “No.”

“Yes, because, if not...that would mean letting your guard down.”

“You sound so sure.” There is a beat of silence. “Would you like to test your theory?”

“That's because I _am_ sure!” Dick growls. He uses his own strength to remove his hands from the man's grip. He's pretty sure that Slade merely allowed him to break free and had he really wanted to, he could have kept him pinned. Dick, ignoring how his mind is always analyzing, wastes no time in grabbing the handgun from Slade's and pointing the barrel at his handsome face. “I could shoot this gun _right now_ and nothing would happen? Is that what your saying?”

Slade's poker face is something else.

Dick's grip is firm on the gun, four years of being a cop had taught him that. He levels the man with an intense, blue stare, the stare he'd perfected from Batman years ago and came in handy in his day-to-day life as one of Bludhaven's finest.

“ _Perhaps_ ,” the man then says.

Dick has a moment of clarity, his mind taking in his surroundings. He would laugh at the absurdity of the situation under other circumstances. The fact that this was all taking place in his small ass shower, while both of them were naked and warm water sprayed down consistently on them. But...a deeper part of him. A part that Slade had always saw in him, had tried to nurture once before when he'd blackmailed him into becoming his apprentice, was relishing in this.

The side of him that felt immense arousal at their back-and-forth. The danger, the challenge, the _threat_. It all made his blood boil, heart beat quicker and seemingly loud in his chest. The part of him that liked it. Felt attracted to it. Slade was an attractive package to all of the things Dick liked most in the world...and all the parts of himself that he kept hidden in the darkest parts of his mind.

His moment of clarity brings forth a unyielding resolve. Slade has never lied to him. The man might be a lot of things, including a master manipulator. But he was a man of honor, of his word being binding.

Dick decides that it is time for a little test of his own.

The young officer steels his nerves. “Stop beating around the bush, yes or no? Is this gun loaded with a bullet in the chamber?”

“No, it is not.”

“I see,” Dick says. He cocks the gun back, narrowing his eyes in concentration. “I'm curious,” he says casual, like talking about the weather, “can your healing factor work against a wound as devastating as a shot to the face?”

Slade tilts his head, regarding him like he's a teacher and he's studying his student in a critical moment, “a bullet to the head at that close of range, would most _likely_ kill me.”

Dick feels a moment of surreal calm come over him. The darker parts of him rearing up.

“Good to know--”

...and then, with his blue gaze staring heatedly into steel grey, he fires the gun...

* * *

_Click..._

_Click...Click...Click...Click...Click..._

Dick is frowning down the length of the barrel, squinting his eye a minute later. When his tunnel vision clears, he sees that Slade's is staring back at him in amusement.

“Well?” The mercenary drawls, “satisfied?”

There are a couple more clicks, as Dick tries to fire a couple more shots, but there is nothing there, “hardly.”

The young officer mutters to himself, rustling open the shower curtain and placing the gun on the cabinet surrounding his bathroom sink.

He turns back into the shower and realizes that Slade has now moved in front of the spray, Dick's previously discarded body wash in his hand. The young officer runs a hand through his wet hair and pinches the bridge of his nose in a sigh, a scowl etched firmly on his face, eyes pinched.

Slade reaches out then and wraps a strong hand around the back of his head, pulling him forward easily. The younger man still has his arms folded across his chest, but doesn't resist when he is brought closer. Dick feels a small pink flush heat his cheeks when the older man cannot help but watch him with a lewd stare.

The mercenary is amused and Dick feels petulant towards it.

“Finally no longer _just_ a boy...” Slade mummers with a low, teasing drawl, pulling the strands of his raven hair back and making him arch against him. The mercenary gets up close and personal, “you have certainly come into your own, Dick Grayson. _My_ Robin never would have even thought to try a stunt like that.”

“Tch, I was _never_ yours...”

But Slade doesn't even deem that with a reply, gripping and pulling his head back from his hair. It's painful, but his throbbing dick has other thoughts to the rough treatment.

Then, just as suddenly, he's being manhandled out of the shower, and onto the cabinet that has his bathroom sink carved into it. His feet leave the ground and his thighs are forced to wrap around a hard waist as Slade sinks against him, crushing Dick's head a little bit against the bathroom mirror.

Dick cannot help but scoff, even in his current position, “are you seriously turned on because I tried to shoot you with a gun? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Yes,” the man rumbles, “among the fact that you are naked and wet with my marks all over you.” and Dick sucks in a sharp breath when Slade's mouth latches onto his sore and sensitive neck. “Also, because I know your hole is still gaping wet and raw with my cum...”

“Fuck...Fuck!”

Slade murmurs against the underside of his chin, trailing up and latching onto his lips again with a possessive tug.

Dick feels lost again, swept away just as quick as always. Well, until he feels a sharp, metal object push roughly into his ass. He makes an angry sound when he realizes that the mercenary had just shoved part of the gun into his ass. He shouts and pulls from Slade's lips, using his legs to kick the man in the chest so hard he goes crashing into the wall behind him, the gun sliding out of him and tumbling to the floor.

“You aren't fucking me with that, bastard!” He snarls out, eyes heated from his position haphazardly lying on the sink cabinet. “Either fuck me like a _man_ or don't fuck me at _all_!”

Slade looks lethal for only a split second before he's lunging forward again. Practically ripping out Dick's hair as he lurches his head back.

He doesn't even give the young officer any warning this time before he's sinking inside of him. He's still a little wet and opened, but the rough treatment has him clenching and grinding his teeth hard against the pain.

He's oversensitive, raw and exposed and over powered and he fucking loves it. Can't even moan out his enjoyment, Slade's harsh pace leaving him breathless. He clings for his life as hips snap ruthlessly against his ass. One hand gripping the cabinet beneath him for balance, the other, nails scratching bloody lines down the back of the one-eyed man's neck.

The room around them is muggy, hot and humid, but there is a small reprieve as the warm water finally recedes and the shower begins spraying cold as the hot water finally times out.

One minute Slade's fucking him on the sink counter, the next, his back is slamming hard against the bathroom door. His legs cling to the man's rapidly moving hips and all Dick can hear anymore is the steadily increasing _slap, slap, slap, slap, slap...._ the pain and pleasure that overwhelms him. Destroys him. Devours him. How he feels like he's coming apart and the crushing fear he feels wondering if he will be able to pick up the pieces again once it's all over.

The man is everywhere, kissing him and biting at his lips, peppering smouldering, liquid hot kisses and nips to his swollen neck. Hands clenching his ass cheeks open as his rock hard cock pounds inside of him. The smell of him, his heavy breathing, his grunts and gleaming eye make it impossible for Dick to form any semblance of coherent thought. He's never been fucked so thoroughly in his entire life...

_Why him...why does it always have to lead back to him...?_

It's just another conundrum that he's never been able to solve. A riddle without an answer.

“... _hate you_...” Dick manages to growl out, punctuated by harsh pants, loosing the battle within himself as his orgasm begins to crest inside of him.

“Your mouth might be moving, but your eyes and body speak a different language,” Slade tells him, using his leverage to hold Dick in place as they lock heated gazes. Furious sapphire daggers against all-knowing slated silver grey, “there will _always_ be a piece of you that is mine, _Robin_...don't you ever forget that” and the mercenary pins him in place again, just with a look and the young officer cannot help but arch backwards, head slamming hard against the bathroom door as his orgasm is ripped from his body.

* * *

He wants to say that he remembers what happens afterwards, but after the day that he's already endured, his mind has clouded over and he cannot seem to think straight.

Slade doesn't help to clean him up this time. He pulls out a little while later after he'd cum himself and carries Dick out of the bathroom and practically throws him on his bed when they reach the officer's bedroom. He remembers the man murmuring something to him and leaving the room, but he can barely respond before he passes out, cum already starting to coat his thighs as it leaks out of him.

It will be the only reminder of him later. His abused body will be the only thing he has to cling to when he finally wakes up and realizes that Slade has gone again. He'll feel used and be disgusted with himself, for how pathetic he is...but he'll have a steady reminder for at least a few days and while the darker parts of him will be pleased, the saner parts will cry out in anguish.

* * *

It's hours and hours and _hours_ later when Dick finally crawls from his bed.

He's kind of a mess.

He hasn't been a mess like this is years.

Everything hurts. It aches in ways he's not used to and he immediately feels cranky and irritated. There is old cum on his stomach and abs, sticky and dried stiff and itchy. But that pales in comparison to the feeling he has between his legs.

_Ugh..._

He sits up and leans his legs over the side of the bed. He notices that Slade is in fact gone. Even his clothing was missing and Dick, already feeling miserable and pissed off, catches sight of his bedside lamp, sitting innocently on his nightstand. He impulsively grabs a hold of it and then throws it hard into a wall closest to him. The unassuming lamp simply shatters into a bunch of pieces from the impact and yeah...that's already the start of one big ass, colossal bad mood for him.

He storms out of his room, door banging hard against the wall at the force of his movement and he literally doesn't care at all if this warrants another call from his landlord.

Dick hasn't felt this out of control in a long time and he's shaking with the effort he is making to keep his temper in check.

At this rate though, his landlord will surely kick him out of the apartment, for all the good him trying to calm down is doing. He slams open the bathroom door, turns on his shower for the _third time_ in twelve hours, what the hell?!?! and proceeds to wash away as much evidence as possible of Slade that he can.

It's not much and it only makes him mutter and brood more and more.

* * *

By the time he finishes cleaning himself up and getting dressed in a dark blue v-neck and black lounge pants, he has only worked himself up even more. He makes his way towards his kitchen, knowing that he was starving and needed to eat something as soon as possible. He wasn't really hung over, from drinking half a bottle of wine the night before, but he still felt sluggish and useless at the moment.

_Slade's gone again..._

The mercenary had left and even bigger mess the _last_ time he'd just up and left his younger self, in a hotel room after Slade had taken _everything_ from him. Dick had willingly given himself up to it, gave the man permission and had practically made the first move, but the older man had certainly taken all offered liberties. Crossed boundaries and stripped him of everything he was and hadn't stuck around to put him back together again.

He had spiraled after that. Had to work to pull him self from the blast zone that Slade had made of his life and focus on pursuing a police career to keep himself busy.

This time, he felt the messy after effect, but was stronger now, five years forward and wiser. When he'd made the decision to sleep with him last night, he at least had realistic expectations on the morning after.

_I've gotten wise to your games, Slade..._

He rounds the corner from his hallway and takes a step towards the kitchen when his body jolts abruptly to a cold hard stop in one second flat.

“You look like shit, kid...”...and yeah...Slade's just sitting at his kitchen table, casually reading a newspaper even though it's now turning 5PM in the evening. The older man just eyes him with a smirk, “finished with your tantrum?”

Dick just feels literally every single emotion that he's able to feel shudder and explode inside of him.

What. The. Fuck?

* * *

It's after he's had three separate heart attacks at once that he finally finds out the reason that Slade was in Bludhaven at all.

Suffice to say, it doesn't go over too well at all.

“You need somewhere to lay low? _That's_ why your here?”

“Yes.”

“For a job?”

“Yes.”

Dick feels his anger spike furiously at Slade's nonchalant attitude “...and you can't do that literally anywhere _else_ in the city?” he growls out, an eyebrow raised at his house guest, who was now sipping on a coffee in his kitchen half-naked while they argued.

“No...”

The man didn't seem to care that it was kind of too late for coffee, the morning was long gone and dinnertime was already fast approaching. Dick had slept really late.

Slade was shirtless and looked ridiculously comfortable in his living space, white hair a little mussed from sleep as he casually enjoys his caffeinated beverage. It looks like he has only just gotten up himself not to long ago and had done nothing, really, to clean himself up like Dick had.

He is still trying to come to terms with the fact that Slade was still freaking _here_! Let alone that he was apparently here on a job to _kill_ someone as well!

“How long?”

“A week, give or take.”

“A week?! You can't stay with me for a week...!”

“This is the optimal location.”

Dick feels his sudden anger snap at the man's flimsy excuse, slamming his hand down on the kitchen counter. “Why in the hell would you think I would be fine with you showing up here to _murder_ someone Slade?! “ He is glaring hard at the man, fists now clenched at his sides as he tries to reign in his need to physically lash out. Mood having turned on a dime in light of Slade's motives. “ I'm a goddamn _cop_! You think I am just going to let you go on a killing spree without trying to stop you?! You must think your dick is _magical_ or something?!” he was fuming.

_What the hell was he even thinking, coming here? I would never allow that to happen in my city._

A small, traitorous part of him, was almost more pissed off that the man hadn't come here _just_ so he could see him, maybe because he had missed him? But he quickly squashed that thought away. It wasn't surprising, he knew what the mercenary did for a living. It was his fault for falling for his dumb bullshit in the first place.

_Again!_

Reality was suddenly crashing through him like a freight train.

Slade doesn't even blink at his outburst, “while I have _no doubt_ that blue costume I saw yesterday tucked away in a brief case under your bed might come into play if I were to, what did you say, _'start a killing spree' ..._ I can assure you that I am not here to kill anyone, the job is to bring someone in.”

Dick's eyes widen, the tension defusing inside of him like a balloon releasing air. “Oh...”

“Yes,” the man says, a bit of teasing to his tone, “though I _am_ curious about that costume. What name did you give yourself now when you wear it? Nightwing, wasn't it? I find it interesting that you have that, given that you barely wear the moniker.” his single grey eye is intense, masculine and knowing . “Too busy chasing bad guys now in your officer blues?”

“It's for emergencies,” he growls out through clenched teeth, feeling his hackles raise. Still pissed off and annoyed with Slade and all his fucking games! He wasn't at all surprised that Slade had gone through his things while he'd been waiting for Dick to get home yesterday. He could have broken into his apartment hours and hours before he'd gotten home, Dick had worked a thirteen hour shift after all. “Besides, it's really none of your _business_. I don't need a _cape_ to defend my city anymore. I can do it the right way now.”

“Then why have the costume at all? Don't tell me that you don't miss the _thrill_...”

“ _Listen!_ ” Dick whirls around on the man, stomping up to him. “ _You_ still haven't explained why, even though you _may_ be here on less than terrible terms, why the hell you need to lay low in _my_ apartment?” his arms are then gesturing towards the open window, “there are literal thousands of places you could be staying. It doesn't _need_ to be with me. I'm still a cop! I can't have a wanted villain holed up in my apartment!”

“Don't you think that villain sounds just a bit too dramatic?”

Dick just sees red, _Slade is so missing the damn point!_ The man is being purposefully obtuse. “What the hell should I call you then, a _murderer_? _Sociopath_? A goddamned _pain in the ass_? Take your pick! They are all relevant.”

Slade tilts his head a little bit, that eye of his boring a hole into his soul. He's never met someone, not even Batman, who has a more all-consuming gaze. It's simultaneously intimidating and charismatic all in the same breath. “Sociopath would imply that I have a medical condition.”

“and _don't you?!_ ” he is then shaking, like he's gone crazy and this is his loony toon nightmare, starring Slade Wilson, absolute asshole. “You can't stay with me. Not a fucking chance in hell!”

“What's a few more nights than the one that I've already spent, it's only for a few more days. I could make it worth your while...” and the young officer has to stop himself from reacting to his ridiculous offer, because if he let himself think of it as anything but, he would fall to his knees.

“ _NO!_ ” Dick insists, pretending he doesn't see the man's smoldering grey eye.

“You won't even know that I'm here,” Slade tries to reason, but he's more being a bastard than anything, knowing full well the affect he has on Dick. One of his best skills was being a manipulator and goddamned if he wasn't good at convincing you of things.

For a while, back when he'd been forced to be Slade's apprentice, he'd almost been convinced by Slade that this is what he'd wanted.

Almost.

But he would always be a hero at heart.

He was just a grey hero, someone who sometimes, stepped outside of that grey zone and into the dark, tantalizing abyss.

“You can't just spring this shit on me Slade,” he tries to say, his own resolve crumbling a little bit. There was always two conflicting sides within him when the mercenary was involved. “I could loose my job if someone finds out!”

“Yes, what a pity that would be...” Slade bites out dryly, deadpan. It's clear that he thinks that being a police officer is dull and boring. That rules and restrictions weren't a good look on the younger man. That had always been a thing with him. Him wanting Robin to be free and boundless.

Sometimes...he wants that too.

Dick, because he takes his job very seriously, gets instantly annoyed by the older man's words. “Screw you! You have no _idea_ how hard I have worked to get this far.”

“Oh, I'm _quite_ aware of the goings on in these parts,” the man is speaking, his tone low. His eye then narrows and Dick feels his breath catch in his throat. “Did you think I hadn't kept tabs on you, boy?” He is giving the young officer a head shake, like chiding a small kid. “No, I could never let you stray _too_ far from my grasp after all. You've done some good work, I'll give you that much. Boring. Dull work. Nothing that befits your impressive talents and skills. But, good...honourable work...” the man then snorts, looking affronted. “How _do_ you stand to do it?” and it's mocking and full of ego.

“I do it to make a home for myself, to make a _real_ name for myself!”

“Ah yes, the _right_ way, that's what you said, yes?” and he's then tutting out, that calm, no-nonsense tone that always made Dick want to brawl. “Is that why you don't want to be called Robin now? Don't want to live in a shadow anymore?”

“ _Don't psychoanalyze me!”_ Dick sneers, feeling that heated, penetrating gaze on him. Slade is coming closer to him, lying his coffee cup innocently on the kitchen island and circling his way to the other side. When he comes to stand in front of him, the young officer levels him with a glare. “Also! Don't act like you _know_ me when I haven't seen you in almost _five years_ , you bastard!”

There is a mirthful chuckle and Slade has completely invaded his space now, taking his chin in his hand and tilting Dick's face side-to-side, “and _there_ it is,” he says, smirking, like he'd just gotten exactly what he'd wanted, “the _real_ reason you do not wish for my company this week. Your upset that I've waited so long before seeking you out again. That I haven't been paying enough attention to you.”

Dick feels himself bristle, furious. The absolute _gall_ that this man has, to imply such a thing.

Never mind that it may or may not be true!

_What the hell is wrong with me? Why can't I hate you?!?!_

“As if!” He mutters and slaps Slade's hand away, glancing away as his face scrunches up in embarrassed rage. He is then physically pushing the man away as well, needing a second to breath without his distracting presence. “Don't flatter yourself!” he snarls, feeling a little vulnerable and lashing out, “and don't think I don't know what your doing. Trying to distract me so I'll agree to let you stay with me. It's not happening _Slade_ , so go find someone _else_ to bother with your bullshit. I don't want _any part_ of whatever is going on here!”

Dick is then storming towards his room, slamming open the door. His blue eyes immediately take in the state of his bed, pillows obscured, blankets lying haphazardly over the side, most of his own clothing lying in different spots around the wooden floor. The tube of lube is even still sitting on his nightstand and he can smell the stale stench of sex and Slade's masculine scent when he breaths in. He feels his face twist into a grimace at his own stupid misstep and hurriedly leaves the room once he's grabbed his wallet and cell phone, knowing that if he doesn't get the hell out of here, he's going to cave and the man is going to take over his life again.

He never should have entertained him from the beginning.

It had just been a huge _mistake_.

Just like the last time he'd done this.

Slade hasn't moved from his spot when the ex-hero returns, his arms crossed as he watches Dick throw on a pair of sneakers by the door and grab his keys. The mercenary is simply regarding him and the younger man feels another swell of bitterness shoot up inside of him for how goddamned unflappable he always fucking IS! Nothing ever trips him up. Slade is just always so calm, cool and collected and nothing ever fucking phases him. These things are just games to him. He likes playing the mastermind and molding you to his willy ways and Dick just...can't let himself fall for his crap anymore.

Has spent way too much of his life chasing after an impossibility...

“ _Don't_ be here when I get back,” the young officer says coldly, his vibrant blue eyes staring the man down with his own no-nonsense gaze. He means business and is being perfectly serious and if Slade has any self-preservation instincts, he'll get the fuck out of here and never come back. If he doesn't, and he's still here when he gets back...well, he'll find out quite quickly that Dick is not one for empty, idle threats.

Slade should know at least _that_ about him.

He is then making his way out, slamming the front door behind him as he heads down a few flights of stairs and out into the sunny, summer evening air as he takes to the streets of Bludhaven.

* * *

...and when he arrives back home three hours later, it's to an empty apartment, not a single trace of the man left, not a hair out of place or any evidence that Slade had actually been in there at all.

When he's looked around his entire apartment, he finally stands in his living room, hands in his pants pockets and just shakes his head feeling annoyed and pissed off at the same time, feeling relief but also a sadness...his heart giving a pathetic lurch too.

He's disgusted.

At himself. At the situation. All it took the man was one fucking night to smash through the walls that Dick had spent years building.

He doesn't know why his chest clenches uncomfortably when the realization hits him, because this had just been expected. The mercenary had gotten what he'd wanted after all and had vanished, just like he always did.

He knows he wanted him gone...

Has to keep distant...

But it feels shitty all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I really have no idea where I am going with this or if this was any good...
> 
> But, I kind of already have a third chapter thought of and...yeah. I suppose if anyone is interested in another continuation to this, let me know and I will try not to take another year to update ;P


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